


Simple People

by IceCewbs



Category: Fallout - Fandom, Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Deaf/HoH, Disabled Character, F/M, Smoking, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-08 07:41:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4296351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCewbs/pseuds/IceCewbs





	1. Chapter 1

Boone liked to be alone. People were complicated, they talked too much. People were much simpler with bullets in their skulls, which he was happy to supply these much simpler people to the Wasteland.

 

His scope settled in on one of the not-simple people  and held his breath, prepared to take the shot, in warning or intent was yet to be determined. The wanderer was slow-going, an almost lazy tilt in every step they took. Boone scoffed. Anyone that relaxed in the wasteland surely ended up dead.

 

He turned his sights to the horizon, watching the stars creep across the sky.

 

Just as the sun began to rise, he heard it: the clomp of boots up the stairs. Boone grit his teeth, annoyance tightening his fingers around the hilt of his knife. 

 

The first thing he noticed were the eyes. Secondly, the smoke. A lazy coil of cigarette smoke drifted over the wanderer's face, blurring her black eyes gray. A broad hat was jammed over her ears, and she stared blankly at him, cigarette smoldering between her lips.

 

Boone glared through his sunglasses, fingers flexing. "What do you want?"

 

She was slow to respond, the last of her cigarette burning down to the filter. Dropping it from her teeth, she ground it under her boot. "Just lookin' around."

 

"There isn't much to see." Boone's lips pressed into a thin line, his thin patience becoming impossibly brittle.

 

She looked out through the gaps in the teeth, scratching absently at a scar on her jaw. "Guess not."

 

They sat in silence, the sniper bristling under the infuriating nonchalance of this wastlander. Finally, she broke the silence. 

 

"Any way I can help?" Her coal eyes burned into him.

 

"Help? No, I--" He stopped, nearly choking on his words. "You know what? Sure, I got a job for you."

 

Not 24 hours later, the hotel owner was dead, reduced to a much simpler person. The only thing stronger than the spray of gore was the memory of the wanderer dropping her hat to replace it with his own, exposing the freshly shaved head and a pink, ugly scar marring a streak over her temple.

 

When she clomped back up the stairs, eyes burning over another chewed cigarette, he had no questions. They wordlessly set off into the night, Boone focusing on the back of her head and the crawl of stars over the sky.


	2. Chapter 2

They spent three days not talking. Dust swirling around their feet, trekking endlessly across the desert. Each night she would stop, finding a suitable place to sleep and wordlessly drop to the ground.

 

Boone kept watch, fingers tapping against the hilt of his knife. Halfway through the night, he'd nudge the girl with his foot and she'd be up in an instant. She would glance at him, and settle on a rock, an unlit cigarette rolling between her fingers.

 

The fourth night, she spoke. She tossed down her pack and stretched, bones popping. "I'll take first watch."

 

He almost didn't hear her. He answered with a grunt, pulling his berret over his eyes falling asleep in an instant.

 

Boone awoke with a start, sunlight dazzling him. He felt groggy, over-slept. His head whipped around at the click of a lighter, the wanderer hissing out a fresh puff of smoke.

 

His lips pressed together. "You didn't wake me up."

 

A small smile twitched at the corner of her mouth, half hidden beind a cigarette. "Yeah."

 

Boone sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. Standing, he dused himself off and hoisted his pack. "You shouldn't have done that."

 

She shrugged, gripping the cigarette between her teeth as she grabbed her bag. "Yeah."


	3. Chapter 3

The first group of convicts they encountered, they were blown to bits before he could even settle his sights on one.

 

Mouth hanging open, he turned to the wanderer, who was stuffing dynamite back into her belt loops. She flicked open her lighter, cigarette catching in an instant in the still air.

 

She patted his chin, closing his mouth. With a distainful sigh, she tossed away the empty pack of cigarettes. "I'm out."

 

They scavenged the bodies, whatever was left, in silence. He handed her dynamite, she handed him bullets. A half-empty pack of cigarettes found its way into her pack during his watch.

 

\---

 

"What's your name."

 

Boone turned, coal eyes burning him through his sunglasses. He noted absently that the girl's voice hardly ever changed pitch, making questions into statements."Craig Boone."

 

She nodded, shoving a cigarette into her mouth and pulling the brim of her hat down over her eyes. 

 

Focusing on the back of her neck, he noticed her hair was beginning to grow back.

 

\---

 

They had stopped early for the day, settling on a rock to peer down in the valley. She didn't question why he stopped here, or why he had his rifle at the ready, just wordlessly handed him a canteen of water.

 

He waited for hours, waiting for even a peek of red through the dusty haze of the trading route.

 

She was on her third cigarette when he took a shot, followed by five more. Flicking ash into the wind, she eyed the Legion bodies crumpled in the dust. 

 

"You don't like Legion." Another statement.

 

"Yeah."

 

"Neither do I." A hand rubbed at the scar on her jaw, spent cigarette falling to the dirt under her boot. 


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey." Boone grit his teeth as she didn't respond. He tapped her shoulder.

 

Turning, she blinked at him, waiting for him to speak. 

 

"Where are we going?"

 

She took a while to respond, the toe of her boot kicking in the dirt. "End goal or near future?"

 

"Both."

 

Pausing, she pointed to the horizion. "Boulder City."

 

"Then?"

 

"New Vegas." She set off down the road, boots clomping. 

 

With a sigh, he followed.

 

\---

 

When Boone fired from his rifle, she didn't even flinch, not even when the rifle was practically over her shoulder. She just sat calmly, cigarette burning between her teeth.

 

"You're deaf."

 

She ground out her cigarette, last puff of smoke gushing from her lips. "Mostly."

 

"Mostly?"

 

She waved a hand over her left ear, eyes scorching. "This one kinda works." 

 

"Born like that?"

 

"I don't know."

 

"You don't know if you were born deaf or not?"

 

"I don't know much of anything."

 

"What do you know, then?"

 

She paused, answer stuck in her throat. With a grunt, she stood. "I know I got a fucking score to settle."

 

That worked for him, so he followed her into the dust.

 

\--- 

 

He never thought someone could smooth talk their way through a battle field, much less someone who hardly ever talked.

 

But the same lazy gait that carried them across the wastes carried them through Boulder City, right between the Khans and NCR. He could taste the tension.

 

She didn't seem to mind it, pushing open the door to where the Khans were holed up. The leader nearly jumped out of his skin, sunburnt face draining to white. 

 

That's how he found out she was supposed to be dead. She wasn't so simple, even with a bullet in her skull.

 

\---

 

He didn't expect her to be a nice person (he didnt expect much from her to begin with), but when the Khans filed out of the war zone, he had hardly any doubts. She just sat, flicking her new lighter and chewing the filter of a cigarette. 

 

"Why did you let them go?"

 

She sighed, rubbing her jaw. "Felt right."

 

Boone nodded. She held out her hand, which he clasped in his own and helped her up. Dusting off her pants, they set off to the glowing lights of Vegas.

 


	5. Chapter 5

"You read lips." 

 

She coughed, poking at the fire. "Yuh."

 

Boone scratched at his cheek. "That helps you know what people are saying."

 

"Most of the time." Her eyes burned holes into him, hotter than flame.

 

They sat in silence, watching the fire crack and pop.

 

"You never told me your name."

 

"Don't have one."

 

"Don't remember it?"

 

She didn't answer, removing her hat to scrub a hand over her shaved head, feeling the delicate fuzz. She tossed an empty cigarette pack back into the fire.

 

"God, I wish I had a cigarette."

 

They watched the sparks mimic the stars.

 

\---

 

They walked, eyes set on the glowing lights of New Vegas. 

 

She stopped at the 188, eating with a woman named Veronica. Veronica was more a girl, with frizzy hair and a love for punching things. 

 

Veronica loved to talk, which worked just fine for the Wanderer. She liked to nod and hum, eyes glinting in the sun.

 

Boone was stunned when she laughed, a full laugh that had her gripping the table. He'd never seen her smile, much less show any emotion. But here she was, cigarette stained teeth flashing.

 

Boone felt like he was watching something secret, so he turned away and nursed his watered down beer.

 

Before they set off, Boone bartered with the 188 owner, a young girl with a round face. Caps changed hands, and he shoved food into his pack.

 

"What'd ya buy?" She was chewing on her lip, absent of a cigarette. Her fingers rubbed one of the fuses on a stick of dynamite stuck into her belt.

 

"Food."

 

She nodded, turning and clomping down the crumbling road.

 

Later that night, another pack of cigarettes found its way into her pack.

 

She didn't ask, he didn't tell, and they pushed onwards, smoke and ash left in their wake.


	6. Chapter 6

When they walked through the gates of Freeside, Boone felt the Wanderer's mood shift. Her eyes darted, nearly flinching at every shadow. The sleeves of her stained button-up had been rolled, unrolled, and left to a sagging, crumpled mess at her elbow. A shaking hand shoved a cigarette to her lips, but she didn't bother lighting it, her "borrowed" lighter seeming to scorch her fingertips. Each time she reached for her pocket, her hand jerked away as if the contents were poisonous.

 

He lit the cigarette for her.

 

They trekked through Freeside to the Strip gate, lazy, leisurely walk left to the wastes. She now moved stiffly, shoulders pulled back. 

 

With a twinge of emotion in his belly, Boone realized with a jolt that she was afraid. 

 

He wrapped a hand around her arm, dragging her to a stop. "Hey, hold up."

 

She turned, eyes burning. "Let me go, Boone."

 

His brows drew down, crossing his arms. "We need to talk."

 

He took her silence as confirmation. With a sigh, he scratched at the stubble forming on his chin. "...You don't have to do this."

 

"Yes, I do."

 

"Look, we can just, fuck I dunno, go back. Wander some more. Until you're ready to deal with this."

 

"I am ready." He could hear the anger in her voice, even if it didn't reflect on her face.

 

Lips pressing into a thin line, Boone looked away. "Fine, do what you want."

 

Her glare reduced him, picking him apart, burning him down to the core. "Good." She turned on her heel and marched to the gate, a force of nature ready to blow shit to bits. He had no choice but to follow.

 

A robot stopped them, demanding evidence of their wealth. Unsure, Boone's companion dug through her pack, producing the handful of caps they had been able to scavenge over the course of their trip.

 

A whirring sound vibrated deep in the Securitron, followed by a loud beep. "Denied. Return when you have obtained 2000 caps." 

 

The robot turned, leaving the woman stunned in its wake.

 

Boone shifted from foot to foot, hesitant. "Hey, uh, don't worry--"

 

She whirled, slamming a fist into his chest, a blur of bared teeth and blazing eyes. She screamed, gripping his shoulders. "I'm so  _close,_ Boone. I can smell him, I can taste his blood--"

 

He shook himself from her grasp and enveloped her in a crushing hug. She stiffened, then sank easily into his chest, shaking. 

 

"I'm so... I'm so..."

 

He shushed her,  holding her at arms length. "We are going to make that money, and then you'll kill the bastard. Any way you want to, I'll make sure. I promise."

 

Boone doesn't remember when he ever made a promise, or if he was ever going to start, but even a glance at her watery, ashen eyes broke his will.

 

Her voice cracked, more emotion on her face than ever before. Hope, pure, crushing sadness. "You promise?"

 

"I promise."

 

She nodded, pulling down her sleeve to wipe her nose. She pulled her hat down to hide her eyes. "I'm sorry I hit you."

 

"I know."

 

"It really hurt."

 

"I know."

 

He took her hand like an apology.


	7. Chapter 7

Boone followed her from the Atomic Wrangler, he could hardly believe what they had been tasked with. He fell into step with his Wanderer.

 

A cigarette hung in her lips, unlit. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused, deep in thought. She jerked when Boone touched her shoulder, fingers working one of the fuses at her belt. She spoke around the cigarette, voice muffled. "Yah?"

 

"Did we just agree to become pimps?"

 

She looked away, pulling the cigarette from her mouth. "Kinda. We're like... temporary pimps. One time payment."

 

Boone grunted, unhappy. "I don't like it." 

 

She nodded, cigarette rolling between her fingers.

 

He sighed, pulling away his sunglasses to run a hand over his face. "Okay, where to first."

 

She scratched absently at her jaw, humming. "...I guess we go program a sexbot."

 

\---

 

Boone never guessed her to be tech savvy, but she was full of suprises. At the first sign of a terminal, she shoved her hat into his hands and went to work, ciggarette rolling between her teeth.

 

He wasn't nearly as suprised as he should have been when the casing rolled open, and a fully functioning sexbot fumbled out.

 

After ramblind about its function and make, the robot paused, a faint whirring deep in the machine as it searched for its next strip of coding. 

 

"Please assume the position."

 

Boone's brows jerked up, eyes wide. He turned to the wanderer, who frowned in confusion. She turned her frown to him.

 

"Did he just say somethibg?" Boone forgot breifly that she was deaf.

 

"He said, uh... he said 'assume the position.'" Boone winced and rubbed at the back of his neck.

 

Her brows jerked up to mimic his, mouth falling open and cigarette dropping from her lips.

 

Then she laughed.

 

Laughed so hard tears beaded in her eyes, stained teeth flashing in the dim light. She fell against his arm, and he had to struggle to keep her from falling. 

 

After a moment, the laugher fades and she wiped her eyes. With a final sigh, she slapped the robots chest. "Let's go, big guy."

 

The left the building, dead rats and a clunky sexbot in their wake.

 

He'd be lying if he said hadn't laughed a bit with her.


	8. Chapter 8

Boone and his Wanderer shared a room. They had rented out a room in freeside from a red-headed woman who smacked her gum when handing them the key.

 

Boone scrunched his nose and placed his bag on the cleanest patch of ground. The room was hideous, filthy. Ragged, smoke-stained curtains spruced up the rotting wood nailed over the window. Grime peeled from the wall like wallpaper, and wrappers and trampled papers and unidentifiable stains littered the dingy carpet.

 

And worse of all, there was only one bed.

 

Granted, the blanket only had three holes, and the mattress actually had sheets. Were the sheets meant to be white? Nevermind.

 

With a sigh, his partner walked in behind him, taking in the war zone of a room. With a shrug, she tossed her bag onto a chair and walked into the bathroom.

 

"This place is... disgusting." Boone removed his berret, rubbing a hand over his shaved head and letting out a breath.

 

Water ran from a bathroom, nearly masking her reply. "Yup."

 

"I've never been in worse conditions. And I was with the NCR, I slept with sweaty dudes."

 

She came out of the bathroom, bucket of sloshing water at her hip. She set it on the drooping dresser, humming in thought.

 

She turned to him, eyes burning. "I don't know if I've been in worse. I guess that makes it better. Or worse. I don't know." 

 

She yanked the sheets off the bed, wrinkling her nose at the blanket. Bundling up the off-white fabric, she dumped it into the water, pouring a healthy amount of Abraxo Cleaner along with it. With a sigh, she yanked up her sleeves and began to scrub.

 

Taking after her example, Boone rubbed the back of his neck and set about scooping up trash off of the floor.

 

\---

 

After three hours and two dead rats found in drawers, the both flopped onto the bed, groaning.

 

Boone relishing in the clean, if slightly damp, sheets, eyeing one of the nastier stains that refused to be lifted from the fabric.

 

With a huff and a few creaking bones, the courior sat up, reaching over him for her pack. Digging through it, she pulled out her pack of cigarettes, extracting one and tossing the remaineder on her nightstand.

 

She shoved it in her mouth, but didn't light it. With a heave, she hung her hat on the door, running the tips of her fingers over her growing hair.

 

Boone unlaced his boots, tossing them into a corner. "So, what's the plan for tomorrow."

 

She took a while to answer, cigarette between her teeth. Pulling it from her mouth, she coughed and scratched at her jaw. "Make caps. Maybe kill some people, help some others."

 

Boone nodded, plucking at a lose thread in his pants. 

 

They sat in silence, wanderer abusing a broken cigarette, Boone setting his glasses on the nightstand. 

 

With a angry grunt, she slumped into a chair. "I'm sick of not having a name."

 

Boone looked up, unsure. "...Okay."

 

"Everyone has a name. Even damn robots have names. I don't get one, it was stolen from me." The cigarette rolled in her rough fingers. "I don't have anything, not even a name to define my life."

 

The cigarette went sailing, hitting the wall. Boone scratched at the stubble on his chin. "I can't help you there."

 

"I know," She looked at him, jaw clenched. "What's worse is, no one knows me. No one knows who I am," She looked down at her hands. "I was nobody, even before I was killed. Now I'm even more of a nobody."

 

He grunted, standing. He rubbed a hand over her head, earning him a glare. "You're not nobody. You've done more good than anyone I know, and some people I know are paid to do good things."

 

She nodded, and he pretended not to notice the tears wobbling in her eyes. She looked impossibly small, impossibly young. 

 

"Get to bed kid," He shoved her shoulder. "We got lots to do. We're gonna kill that sonovabitch who shot you and then some."

 

She nodded again, more sure of herself. She murmured, eyes glazed. "And then some."

 

He threw a fresh pack of cigarettes her way, grunting as he dropped onto the bed. "And then some."

 

She stayed in the chair well into the night, and Boone pretended not to noticed. With a click of a ligher, a cigarette took to flame. After it burned down to her fingertips, she crept into bed, and Boone pretended he was asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

"Abby."

 

"Nah."

 

"Alex, Amy. Amelia?"

 

"Nup."

 

"How about Beth?"

 

The Wanderer snorted, flicking her smoldering cigarette into the dust, not bothering to crush it. Her fingers jittered at her belt, veins thrumming with nicotine. She spat. "Doesn't sound right either."

 

Boone shrugged, hoisting his pack higher on his shoulders. They'd set out into the wastes, in search of caps.

 

Her steady pace faultered, then she sped up to match her step with his. "You locked up the room, right?"

 

Boone nodded, scratching at his nose and squinting over his sunglasses at the horizon. "Nice and tight."

 

She nodded, sweeping her hat off of her head to rub at her scalp. The courior drifted back behind him, a cigarette lighting between her lips.

 

"Don't waste them all, cigarettes are expensive."

 

She made a noise in her throat, flicking ash onto the road. "And fucking everywhere if you look."

 

Boone pulled a loose thread from his pants. "True."

 

The sun beat relentlessly, staining their shirts with sweat. They stepped off of the road, for fear of the sweltering heat of it would melt the soles of their shoes.

 

A rattle of bullets had them diving on their bellies, scrambling behind the burnt out shell of a car.

 

Jackles. Boone cursed under his breath, the junkies were hard to predict.

 

Glancing at his partner, he couldn't help but snort. A grenade pin gripped between her teeth in a mad grin, waggling a grenade before chucking it at the gang.

 

Matching her grin, his rifle found its way into his hands.

 

\---

 

They settled at an abandoned gas station, torn mattresses meeting their exhaustion. The courior flopped onto one, shucking her backpack and tossing her wide-brimmed hat to the side, glaring at a broken cigarette.

 

Boone dropped his back and cracked his neck. He watched her pack the cigarette back into shape and light it. 

 

"I'll take first watch."

 

Boone nodded, pulling his sunglasses from his face. "Just make sure to wake me up this time."

 

A smile played on her lips, smoke coiling under her eyes. "Sure thing."

 

With a grunt, he settled in bed, and was asleep in minutes.

 

She didn't wake him up.


End file.
